


The First Night

by LucBev



Series: ikkayumi, etc. [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Commitment, Dom/sub, Friends to Lovers, Hair-pulling, M/M, Objectification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:49:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucBev/pseuds/LucBev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yumichika asks Ikkaku to help him with his hair. They had arrived in the Seireitei just that morning, unaware of what that first night would bring down upon them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Night

“Cut my hair for me,” he said again, louder and more slowly. The first time he had asked he was met with a stunned silence and a furrowed brow.

“Why can't you do it yourself?” Ikkaku asked, scratching at his own head, skin smoothed and tan from years naked under the sun.

“Flexible though I am,” Yumichika explained, “it's hard to bend my arm such a way that I won't make it uneven.” He showed this, arching one slender arm into the air and then down his back, reaching clumsily at his shoulder blades. He had taken off his shirt when first he entered the room; it had been so long since he had the luxury of discarding his dirty clothes for someone else to wash them.

It was their first night within the high walls of the Seireitei. They were given a little house to stay in the night before going to meet their new superior. Ikkaku had been chasing that man for some time, and though now he was finally within his reach, he had first to cut Yumichika's hair.

“Okay,” Ikkaku surrendered, motioning for Yumichika to sit on the floor before him. Releasing his long hair from its braid, he did as he was bid, crossing his legs on the hardwood floor.

“To the chin, if you please,” he said, turning his head slightly to focus one dark eye on the man behind him.

“Why do you want your hair shorter?” Ikkaku asked, dragging his rough hands through it to get the last twists and knots out. His fingers were met with a straight and narrow spine beneath the thick locks of hair. Yumichika had changed his appearance before, but his hair had been the same for along time. Always he was adorned with different flowers and feathers, was always wrapped in the finest fabric he could afford. He had now new feathers, red and yellow, on his face. Ikkaku had seen him put them on, had marveled at how bare his face looked with no ornament. He knew no one else ever saw Yumichika so bare.

“You like it this way?” Yumichika asked. Ikkaku froze with his fingers still entwined. He hadn't meant...well maybe, he did like it, but it's not like he ever _thought_ about it. It's not like he had ever smelled it when they embraced, or like he had ever noted how it shined under the sun. It was certainly not as though, some nights, when the beds were few and they slept side-by-side, he had ever let some of it gather on his neck and shoulder.

“I've grown used to it,” he admitted, slipping the tresses between two of his fingers, measuring where he would make a cut.

“I can't very well fight with a long braid,” Yumichika told him. “It's beautiful, sure, but it's certain to get sliced off on accident.”

“Practical,” Ikkaku said, releasing the hair from his hands and placing them on Yumichika's bare shoulders. He was always so pale, and how, when they both spent so many days with no shelter? He had no visible scars, though he had scrapped with some scum quite often in the Rukongai. “May I keep it?”

“I beg your pardon?” Yumichika asked, his back straightening. Ikkaku swore he heard a little cracking sound.

“Your hair,” he clarified, letting his hands fall down the slender shoulders before him, takingthe ends of Yumichika's hair in his fingers. It was still soft, no split-ends, even and thick to the very tip.

“Hm-for what? A wig?”

“No, asshole,” Ikkaku said, poking roughly at Yumichika's back, between the ribs, relishing in the soft, playful gasp it produced. “Just....so that it's mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” he said leaning his head forward, breathing in the floral scent, closing his eyes to the world around them. “I'm the only one who knows what you look like with it. So it's mine.”

Yumichika was silent for a moment, silent as Ikkaku himself had been when he had been asked to give a haircut.

“Okay,” he said finally, lifting his arm to place a hand on top of Ikkaku's, resting heavily on one sloping shoulder.

Ikkaku felt that pain, the pain he had felt from time to time that he couldn't ever explain. It came to him sometimes when he fought, when he knew he was winning. It came to him in the middle of the night, when he would wake up with his sword in his hand, ready to protect himself and his friend from danger in the slums. Most of all it came to him when Yumichika laid his hands on or near him. It seemed thoughtless; he saw Yumichika touch many things all the time. Other people. The hand railing on stairs. His own sword. But on him the hands were different.

The pain compelled him to grab the hair a little more roughly, to wrap it in one long tress around his hand. He heard that same gasp again, and he growled _. Growled_.

“I'm gonna cut it now,” he said, pulling until his mouth was near Yumichika's ear.

Ikkaku grabbed his sword from the ground, swept it upward, chopping off Yumichika's hair in one swift motion. Most of it stayed in his hand, but some became scattered all over Yumichika's bare back. It was like a victory, an easy fight but still a good one.

“Thanks.”

“You've got hair all over your back,” he said, dropping his sword and running his hand back and forth over Yumichika's skin. He stood, still holding onto the cut hair, now limp like dead grass in his clenched fist. As he straightened his knees he looked bashfully to make sure Yumichika was still turned around; it was the pain, it was the scent, it was the growling. It was something had made him grow hard. He shuffled over to the table to place the hair amongst his few belongings.

“Well?” he heard Yumichika ask. His voice was the same low, sweet tone it had always been, that same voice that need only speak a little for Ikkaku to turn and look where it was coming from. He did so, as he did every time before, unless in the heat of battle, and he took in the sight of the work he had done. “Oh-”

Yumichika was looking down, his cheeks flushing.

“Uh,” Ikkaku stammered, realizing his mistake. He was hardly hidden behind those loose, black pants, now feeling so tight and too warm around his waist. He found he could not turn away, however. He could see Yumichika's bare neck, his defined collar, each curve of his pale skin as it rested neatly over his bones. The hair had been hiding him beneath itself, keeping another secret much like his bare face.

Yumichika lowered his eyebrows as if curious. Tilting his head to one side he began to step gracefully toward Ikkaku.

“Well?” he asked again. With one final step forward he lifted his nimble hands up, rested his thin fingers on the little white bow at Ikkaku's waist. The feathers framing his face shook in the light breeze that wandered in through the curtained window.

“These are mine too,” Ikkaku heard himself say, touching the feathers above Yumichika's right eye.

“Are they?”

“Yeah,” he assured him, cupping his pale face between rough, strong hands. “No one else can see you without them but me, understand?”

“Okay,” Yumichika agreed, to his surprise. Ikkaku had been expecting some witty retort, some refusal, some claim that it was more important to always be _beautiful blah blah blah_...

“Say it,” Ikkaku asked of him, moving his hands to the back of Yumichika's head, feeling the fresh cut of the hair, the softness of the nape of his neck.

“They're yours,” Yumichika whispered. Ikkaku let out a low growl again, and he felt Yumichika's hands tighten around the white bow.

He had played this out in his head countless times, had wondered endlessly what would happen if he tried to express how he felt, _what_ he felt, what he wanted to do. Since they met he had been telling himself, _he's mine, I found him and I won't let him leave_. It started out that way, simply wanting to keep him by his side. But as they traveled together it changed. It became vivid dreams of Yumichika naked under the moonlight, laying in the cool grass beneath him as they howled like wolves. It became the dreary mornings when all Ikkaku wanted to do was to stay laying down next to his companion, pressing himself against those slim hips, hard from a night of stillness, eager from those dreams. It became that pain he felt in each limb, in his chest when he heard Yumichika say his name.

“Ik-” he heard, and it was enough. He pressed his lips harshly against Yumichika's, growling again at the sound of his name in his mouth. His sweet, wet mouth that kept so sharp a tongue, so soft a voice. He dropped his big hands from around Yumichika's face and let them rest instead on his slender chest. He pushed him against the table, and Yumichika took it upon himself to hoist his slight body onto it.

He was sitting coyly on the edge of the table, his knees together as he pulled his head away from Ikkaku's kiss.

“What's wrong?” Ikkaku asked desperately, ready to be filled with dread. It had gone wrong, he was sure of it, all that time spent waiting and speculating had been for nothing.

“Make me yours,” he replied sternly. “Like you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Please,” Yumichika pleaded. The urgency in his voice spurred Ikkaku on, caused him to grab again at the smaller man's face, pushing his tongue through those thin lips once more.

“This is mine,” he claimed, running his mouth softly against Yumichika's neck, pressing against his throat with his left hand. He bit in, sucking, gently at first, then with the full strength of his teeth, into the soft skin until he tasted blood and heard a sigh.

“Ah,” Yumichika gasped, his hands traveling to Ikkaku's back. “What else?”

“This,” Ikkaku went on, running his fingers down Yumichika's arm until he reach his hand. He lifted the thin arm to his face, left kisses down to the elbow. He smiled at the sounds Yumichika made through his teeth, knew that he was trying to hold back, to stay seemly and beautiful. He took that as a challenge.

“And this,” he mumbled, reaching down to touch Yumichika's closed knees. He parted him, pushing his legs aside as easily as blades of grass, and ran his hand up the inside of one thigh until he found what he had been looking for. Yumichika had become hard as well, as a stone, and he shook a little beneath Ikkaku's hand. “Off,” he commanded, tugging with his other hand at the white fabric that kept Yumichika's pants at his waist.

Yumichika obliged, lifting himself a little to slide the fabric down and let it fall to the floor beneath the table. Ikkaku pulled him forward, wrapping his naked body in his strong arms, holding it close enough so that they could feel each other, and he became very aware of their height difference. _Poor Yumichika_ , he thought, poor indeed, so short and slight and with a nervous erection pressed into his stomach. Ikkaku sighed, feeling the strength with which Yumichika was pressed against his thigh.

Swiftly he pushed the slighter man away, sweeping him off of his feet to lift him into the air.

“Ah!” Yumichika squeeled. His shock dissolved into a deep chuckle as Ikkaku carried him to the freshly made bed.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Ikkaku asked, desperate to be certain that he was not about to make a fool of himself.

“'Kaku...” Yumichika cooed as his back was laid down on the mattress, “Keep talking.”

“Hnh?”

“What else, 'Kaku?” he asked, pulling at the loose fabric around Ikkaku's neck. “What else is yours?”

Ikkaku grinned and removed his own shirt, tossing the large black swath of fabric across the room.

“All this,” he went on, running his hands down Yumichika's chest and stomach. He laid his head on his lap, sliding his own body back down the bed, and listened intently to the blood pumping through Yumichika's veins. His bare head was being caressed with deft hands, slim fingers were tracing the curves of his ears. He could have fallen asleep to the sound, the hard thumping, growing faster by the second, could have rested there all night, listening and looking, for he had a pleasant view. Even the hair between Yumichika's legs was soft and neat, and it framed him well. “And like I said before...”

“That's still yours,” Yumichika told him, looking down. Ikkaku grinned once again, and made quick work of swinging one slender leg over his shoulder and situating himself before his new possession.

He made sure to take in the scent, running slowly his face up the length of Yumichika's cock, skin softer there than anywhere else on him, somehow, fragrant and smooth but hard. He heard a low moan from above, felt those nimble fingers grip tighter onto his bald head.

“I ain't even gotta earn it?” Ikkaku jested, before enveloping the end of it with his tongue.

“Hhhhaaa,” Yumichika groaned. “You earned it a long time ago.”

“What?” he asked, no longer so playful, as if really wondering. Yumichika sighed.

“I've been yours for a long time, Ikkaku.”

The sound of his name sent the pain through him again, and he quickly rushed to take in the entire length of Yumichika's cock in his wide mouth. How sweet it tasted, how different from the rest of him, warmer, more nervous, he thought. How easily Ikkaku felt his throat opening up, he noted. He knew then that he had been right, he was all his, every part of him, every sound that he made. Every bit of pleasure was his and his alone to bestow or to take away. In all his fights, in each battle, never had he felt more powerful.

There was to be no loser here, in this friendly sparring.

He moved his head and mouth up and down slowly, denying Yumichika the speed with which he knew he could move. His ears twitched at the touch of his hands, at the sounds of his happy, pleading sighs.

His hands were holding the entirety of Yumichika's backside, his thick fingers digging harshly into the soft skin. He moved one hand lower, running a finger down the center until he could push against Yumichika's tight opening, pulsing like the rest of him. He took a moment to remove Yumichika from his mouth, letting the spit spill out all over, letting it run down his chin.

“That mine too?” he asked, pushing his finger against the taught skin. Yumichika nodded, his mouth hanging open, devoid of words. “And your hands?” he went on, using his free hand to find Yumichika's shaking fingers. “Good.”

“Wh-” Yumichika whimpered. “What do you-”

“Use them,” Ikkaku told him, moving Yumichika's hand to the wet and warm spot that had been left on his lap.

“Okay,” Yumichika agreed, taking himself into his own hands.

Ikkaku proceeded to kiss down the inside of Yumichika's thights until he met with his own finger. Gently he licked, kissed, flicked his tongue there, getting familiar, all the while listening to the rushed, wet sounds of Yumichika handling his own cock. Ikkaku was still hard and eager, but he wanted to wait. If Yumichika was truly to belong to him he knew he must care for him like anything valuable. But what value could be placed on such a person? He could measure it only in their motions, in the rhythm they had created. Each moment spent waiting, each moment that Ikkaku told himself _no, not yet_ , Yumichika became more and more loved by him, higher and higher on a pedestal.

He looked up to watch as Yumichika continued to get himself off. Funny, he thought, that he ad never seen it before. Such discretion. He wanted to ask “have you ever thought of me?” but he supposed he already knew the answer. Ikkaku had always thought of _him,_ had always found his mind accosted by visions of his eyes and hands.

It was a sight to see, he decided, his friend all undone, sweating and panting above him so unlike the calm beauty he normally was. He continued to watch as his tongue made its way farther into Yumichika.

“Mmm,” he mumbled, not sure to what he was reacting. All of it, perhaps. 

“I...kkaku...” Yumichika moaned, “please.”

“What?” Ikkaku asked, lifting his head, his chin once again becoming covered in saliva.

“Muhh-” the other man stammered, clearly nearing climax, “make me yours...”

There it came again, the pain, the growling, and Ikkaku quickly pulled himself up toward the head of the bed to meet Yumichika's eyes.

“Are you ready?” Ikkaku asked, touching his nose to Yumichika's sweaty forehead.

“Yes,” he replied quickly, moving his hands from his own body to the waist of Ikkaku's pants, already pulled down a little from the friction. He searched beneath the fabric, grabbing at Ikkaku until he was able to pull him out. “Wow.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” Yumichika laughed.

“What's so funny?” Ikkaku demanded to know.

“It's big, like you,” Yumichika explained, running his hand up and down the smooth shaft, grinning bashfully, a sight Ikkaku had seldom seen.

With little hesitation he began to try and get himself inside. Yumichika's skin was saturated already with sweat and spit, and all that wetness guided him, eased him in, along with Yumichika's hands pulling at his backside.

Ikkaku knew it hurt at first, could tell by the squinting in his friend's eyes. He paused, waiting for Yumichika to nod, to allow him to go on. Soon after he began to move, slow at first, in but never completely out.

“You're mine,” Ikkaku mumbled into Yumichika's ear, again and again as he moved inside of him, “you're mine, all mine.”

He spoke like that until Yumichika could no longer bear it, until he squirmed and writhed beneath him, spilling himself forcefully on both of their chests and stomachs. He came silently, looking weak beneath the shadow of Ikkaku, thrusting still above him. He paused, remaining inside of Yumichika but stopping to take in the sight of them both covered in come. He lifted one hand from its spot digging into the sheets and ran his fingers down Yumichika's chest, gathering little bits of him on his hand before placing it in his mouth. He emitted a low humming sound, relishing in the taste of it, in the freshness, the warmth. Yumichika whined beneath him, his dark eyes widening at the sight. Those same eyes begged, pleaded for him to go on.

Ikkaku obliged, continuing to grind himself roughly into Yumichika. He was deep, and he knew it no longer hurt by the way those slender hips moved along with his own.

“I'm-” he stammered, his breath shaking, “I'm going to come, Yumi—I...”

“Please,” Yumichika begged again, tightening his muscles to encourage Ikkaku to climax, “please, come in me. I'm yours.”

Ikkaku gasped at the words, moved one hand into Yumichika's hair,  _his_ hair, as he felt himself lose any semblance of control. His body fell heavily onto the man beneath him, his arms weakened by his own climax. They stuck together, as if glued by sweat and spit and come, and Ikkaku found his face buried in Yumichika's neck, covering his warm skin in kisses. He had come, strongly, and some of it spilled out onto the clean sheets of the bed.

Ikkaku rolled over onto his back, fearful that his heavy body would cease Yumichika's breathing. His fears were unfounded, as he noted that is friend lay there, panting heavily, staring at the ceiling as if transfixed. With one end of the fresh sheet he wiped down Yumichika's chest and then his own, though his efforts were mostly fruitless.

“That's yours, too,” Yumichika said softly, turning onto his side to face Ikkaku. They both lay limp, too tired, too used up.

“Hm?” Ikkaku asked, placing his hand on Yumichika's face, framed now by his hair, wilting from the sweat, knotted from the pillows.

“No one else gets to see me like that,” he clarified, inching closer to Ikkaku on the mattress. “No one else gets to do that to me.”

Ikkaku grinned, proud but grateful, as he pulled Yumichika closer to bridge the gap between their tired bodies.

That night they slept on the now-unmade bed, covered in each other still, naked but warm. It was their bed now, their claim laid to it as they had laid claim to each other. They were home, now, in the Seireitei. They had found each other and they would not leave.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I admit the build-up might not have been my best work but this is only my second attempt at smut so...I'm sure something similar to this must have been written before, so forgive me if it has, I just think it's such a sweet jumping-off point for a fic about these two.


End file.
